


Bare Truth

by chewysugar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fondling, Kissing, M/M, Mirrors, Naked Cuddling, No Smut, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 05:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewysugar/pseuds/chewysugar
Summary: Cas has a question about his reaction to seeing Dean naked.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	Bare Truth

Science claimed that the skin was the biggest organ relating to the human body. Dean thinks it’s all a load of bull, mostly because he prefers to view his junk as the biggest organ he has. Besides, skin is so damn breakable. It cuts, burns, bruises, bleeds—how could anything that fragile be an organ, much less one so vital to the human body?

Still, it feels damn good to have the skin of another person pressed against his. Especially when said other person happens to be his own personal angel. 

They’re in bed after some fooling around. Nothing too heavy. Granted, it had started with every intention to be all-bases ran, slap shot, touchdown slam dunk sex. Cas has surprised the hell out of Dean by being the one who'd initiated. They’d hit the mattress together, kissing as if it were soon to be made illegal, pawing at each other until their clothes had come off. 

But somewhere before this gentle cuddling, but after copious amounts of grinding, Cas had switched into low gear. He’d traced his fingertips over Dean’s skin, drawing smooth, delicate lines down his throat, over his pecs and along the hard valleys of his abs. Dean had tried very hard not to giggle when Cas’s touch had moved to his ribs, although he’d failed hardcore. And when Cas had gone for the goods, so to speak, he’d cupped and fondled Dean as if he were some sort of fascinating blossom. 

No further. Not that Dean was complaining. He isn’t such a hardass that he’d find something like this too soft. Cas is curled against him, the sheets drawn to his waist. Snowflake shadows dance across the bedspread, and on Dean and Cas’s skin. An early winter storm rolled in some time that afternoon. Flakes fat as bunny rabbits tumble from the sky with no sign of stopping. 

Snug as a pug in a mug, he combs his fingers through Cas’s hair. What does he care how much it may storm? He has his love to keep him warm. 

Given that nature despises a vacuum, though, one of them can’t be content unless the other is ailing about something.

“Cas,” Dean sighs. “You trying time run a marathon there, babe? You’re kicking up a storm.” 

“Sorry.” Cas’s restless legs cease. But he frowns, and Dean can’t abide his angel being hawked off at the moment. 

“What’s on your mind, featherbrain?” Dean kisses Cas’s forehead. 

With a sigh, Cas sits up. The sheets pool around his waist. “I’m confused about something.” 

“Can’t have that, can we?” Dean, likewise, sits up, even though he wants nothing more than to sink into the pillows. “What’s wrong?” 

Cas rubs his eye with his knuckles. For a moment, he keeps mum. A million different possibilities fly through his head like a flight of wraiths right from the grave. He braces himself, poised for tragedy and destruction. 

“I’m just wondering why it is that I like seeing you naked so much.” 

In the silence that follows, Dean swears that he can actually hear the snow as it falls outside. 

“What?” He’s laughing now. It’s too ridiculous—mostly that he got so worked up over this of all questions. 

A pout pulls Cas’s lips. It’s the cutest thing, although if Dean were to voice his affection for it, Cas would probably sink into a sulky fit. 

“It’s only a natural state of humanity,” Cas says. “The Father made humans that way—naked. I don’t understand why I keep thinking about you without any clothes on...why it makes me hard or...or why I feel so strange when I see you like this.” 

Leave it to Cas to be sent for a loop by something most people take for granted. Given that Dean himself has treated naked people the way most folks treat their morning cup of coffee, he’s not exactly the person to be talking to about these things. Hell, he’ll probably lose the mystique of being bare ass if he tries to figure this out.

But Cas has that look on his face—that look like a young tomcat trying to figure out if batting at a harmless garter snake will be seen as adorable or ferocious.

Besides, expression and Dean go together like peanut butter and mustard. He’s better grabbing things by the throat.

So, taking Cas by the hand, he throws the sheets off, and drags him towards the floor length mirror on the closet door. Fuck him if Cas doesn’t go a little pink at the sight of them both completely exposed. 

“It’s yours.” Dean holds Cas firmly by the hips. “Your body, right? It doesn’t belong to anyone else. No matter what I might say when I’m playing Doctor Dirty Talker, this is _your_ body.” Well...it's his now, after being put back together following Lucifer’s little napalm bath, but the less said about that, the better. 

“I know that, Dean.” Cas’s eyes are doing that wide-eyed blue-blown-black thing. “But what does—

“Just listen to me, baby.” Dean kisses just behind Cas’s ear. It’s a sweet spot, one that he feels rather proud of having discovered. Cas’s eyes flutter, and a shiver rockets up his back. If only he knew that Dean's swinging wild—making it up as he goes along. But instinct is to him what intellect is to Sam. He’s sure he can find the answer—same way he found that erogenous zone: just keep trekking along til it lands at your feet. 

“When you let me see you naked,” Dean continues, his voice low and gravelly, “it’s like you’re telling me that you trust me enough with something that personal--that private. Sure, maybe humans are a bit ass backwards about being in the buff, but it is what is.” He chuckles, pressing against Cas’s body. “It’s like an 'I love you' in the form of the human body. Is that why you like seeing me stripped down, angel?” 

Cas’s Adam’s Apple bobs. “It sounds like it. It’s also because of how good you look naked.”

Dean laughs. “Thanks, Cas. My ego liked that one. And you look just as good to me.”

“Not everyone looks as good as you.”

“But they do to some people.” Dean props his chin on Cas’s shoulder. “Everyone’s beautiful in the eyes of someone. Isn’t that what the Good Book says?” His fingers tickle up Cas’s thigh, and trace the cleft between his balls. 

“S-something like that.” Cas tilts his head back. 

“Wanna pick up where we didn’t really start?” 

Cas turns, unexpectedly, in Dean’s arms. Heat courses through his eyes. “Keep your eyes on me,” he says.

“As if there’s anywhere else I’d look, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really should write Doctor Dirty Talker when I'm feeling more smutty...


End file.
